Let the Caged Bird Sing
by Blondie13245
Summary: My name is Heather Johnson, subject 36; created to aid in the destruction of millions. This is the story of my descent and eventual rise that leads to my true sacrifice. For the ones I love; I will do anything. On the darker side of things, Bruce/OC. Set after the Avengers.
1. The Beginning

Hello!

After years of avidly reading Fanfiction I decided that it was time to write one of my own. The idea for this story has been swimming through my head for months and, with the help of my best friend/ beta, the time came to release it to the masses! Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the avengers. I only own my OCs and Plot

This story is on the darker side of things so please be warned.

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The storm ravaged the sky as its horrendous winds whipped through the trees. Rain plummeted to the ground,soaking everything in its path, and minimized visibility to blurry shapes and dank colors. Pushing myself faster, the blackened forest seamed to rush past in a blur of dark greens and browns with it's long thin branches trying to drag ones weary soul into the abyss.

Catapulting myself over a large fallen tree that stymied my path, a painful gasp escaped my lungs as my battered body struggled to keep up with my fleeting mind. I could hear the heavy footsteps of my pursuers in the distance, and with renewed vigor pushing me forward, I continued to run blindly through the dense forest. The foliage ensnared my skin, leaving thin claw-like marks that stung smartly. My heart was begging for mercy as the air I inhaled left a burning sensation in its wake.

Dodging another tree, I turned left in hopes of deterring them from my intended path. Their ATVs and bloodthirsty dogs could be heard close behind and I could only hope that the heavy rain would wash away my scent.

Running-always running.

The thought of being captured again filled my very soul with dread for it had the likeness of the devil dragging woeful souls to the fiery pits of hell; five years of sweet freedom could not ripped away because of an amateur mistake. I should have known better than to leave a fire going for such a prolonged period of time. In doing so, I had set a beckon that, like a moth to a flame, had drawn them to my camp.

I am trapped here on the ground; the disadvantages are much too great to stay amongst the ferns when I have something that no one else possessed;neither a gift or a curse it was what I must rely on. All I need is an opening, just big enough to squeeze through, in the thick canopy above. With a thundering crash my prayers were answered, for as the lightning lit up the sky, a small gap in the trees was revealed; only three hundred yards ahead.

Time, running out of time.

Two hundred yards left. It was then that I heard the powerful gun shots which only could mean one thing; they were uncomfortably close. Bullets pounded the earth around me, splitting wood and flinging moist dirt into the air.

One hundred yards, horribly close, a bullet whizzed past my right ear and embedded itself within a nearby tree with a soft thunk.

With another resounding boom, lightning lit up the sky to reveal the hole in the canopy to be located right above me. With as much force as could demand from what was left of my strength, I launched myself upward, unfurling my gigantic hawk-like wings, pushing them forward and with a gasp of pain; down; I rocketed through the air.

With a couple more pulses of my powerful wings, I raced upwards towards my metaphorical pearl gate; the gap in the trees. A chorus of yells and commands flooded the air, as they simultaneously began to fire rapidly at my retreating form. I soared quickly towards my escape when a sharp, white-hot pain ripped through my leg.

With a gasp of both relief and agony, I pulled my wings flush to my back and bursted forth through the trees into the dank gray sky, with blood streaming down my thigh and after mixing with the rain, the essence of life fell to the earth. Racing higher and higher, my body shook with crashing thunder and a raspy laugh escaped my trembling lips. Had I made it? Had I truly escaped once again to breathe the serene air of freedom for another day?

If being constantly on the run is what one would call 'freedom'.

This happy thought was quickly silenced as the distinctive sound of a helicopter filled the air. Out of seemingly nowhere the heavily armed machine rushed forward and began to fill the air bullets.

There is no escape.

This may be it… after years of fleeing they might actually capture me and drag me back to my own ninth circle, well that is, if they don't kill me first. With nowhere to run and out of options, I am forced to become the one thing I hated most. To become the monster, the murderer, of their sick twisted dreams.

_With a well placed round house kick to the stomach, the fight was over. Though tedious, it ended just like all the rest, with my opponent left defenseless and exhausted on the floor. With a split lip and bruised face, he bowed his head in defeat. I extended a hand to help him to his feet, but my actions were halted when a sharp command came from the corner of the room._

_ "Kill him", said the deep voice. The man had a look of absolute power about him. Clad in expensive business clothes that were partly covered by a long leather jacket, he strode forward. If I had not come to completely detest this man, I would have thought of him as handsome. Thick black hair that was casually slicked back crowned his head and his eyes were a dark brown, almost black that drew you in until you felt as though there was no escape. His most distinctive fetchers though, besides his strong jaw line and finally sculpted nose was the thick ugly scar that cut through his left brow, marring his otherwise perfect olive toned complexion. _

_"What?" I asked dumbfounded. He had never asked me to kill anyone before. I was only 15 and already I was able to take on full-grown men that would tower above me. "The fight is over, I won and he lost, there is nothing else to be done." Frightened, I looked from the man with the scarred brow to my opponent kneeling on the floor._

_"Then take your prize." with a glint in his eye, he smiled that disgusting smirk that contorted his handsome face into that of a demon. "If you refuse, then I will be forced to do it myself...and it is common knowledge that his death by my hand will not be so swift and surely without mercy. I will drag it out, making him beg for the sweet relief of death. Maybe I will even bring his young wife and child in here to watch?" _

_"No! Please!" I begged, voice raising in pitch, "I will do anything! Just, just let him live…please"_

_"KILL HIM!" he bellowed. Without a choice and just like a puppet on her string, I walked forward and placed a hand on either side of my opponent's face, looking him deep in his eyes. The look he gave me was unlike one I had ever seen before. That of a man whom is about to die is somber mix of defeat, acceptance, and a socking fear of what lies beyond life's grasp. Slowly, he nodded his head and stared up at me; unwavering. He knew it was what had to be done. With a kiss upon his forehead, I swiftly broke his neck and watched as the life drained from his piercing green eyes._

_His name was Jacob, he had a 5-year-old child and was happily married._

_I granting him an easy and peaceful death but in turn the last bit of my innocence was ripped away._

These people wanted me to be a weapon, a monster? So be it, though I doubt that they ever expect their pet to bite.

Turning towards the monstrous machine, I flapped my wings slowly, hovering in the dark sky. Wind whipped around my still form, tugging at my knotted hair and ragged clothes. With a single tear rolling down my cheek, I raised a hand, spreading my long, dirty fingers wide.

When a person is forced into using their fight or flight instinct, everything changes. The person will drop everything held dear to them including morals, faith, and sometimes even cognitive thought. Once the choice is made, adrenaline will begin to pulse through one's body and will heighten their senses casing the world around them to slows down. In the face of danger, even the weakest man will become strong.

Fight or flight…and I had done enough running.

_"She's wonderful!" exclaimed one of the many scientists as they surrounded my play pen like vultures around a dead carcass that was recently hit by a passing car, beady eyes staring hungrily at the easy meal. _

_ I sat there on the floor, barely four months old, playing with a small stuffed horse. It's fur still felt like silk even after it had endured many years of abuse. Even as a baby I had possessed a decent grasp on my power as I threw the stuffed animal high in the air and then let it slowly float down to rest on the hard concrete floor._

_Not too much comfort is given to something that was not to survive, like many others, for more than a couple of months after creation. I had baffled the scientists as my first few months of life flew by in perfect health. My fate was unbeknownst to me though, as I enjoyed the smallest of pleasures. My tiny wings ruffled and high-pitched squeals erupted from my small mouth in delight. Without anybody touching it, the small horse slid across the floor to come back to my awaiting arms._

_"Half human, half avian, and already so strong. She will become quite the solider"_

Like a finely tuned harp, my power began to sing throughout my body. Concentrating on the death machine that steadily raced towards me, I closed my eyes.

Slowly I began to pull my fingers towards my palm and a resounding shriek filled the air. Nothing can compare to the sound of metal caving in upon itself. The helicopter screamed and moaned as it began to twist and break within my mental grasp. The men on board tried to flee but it was too late, the doors could no longer open as the cockpit shrunk around them, crushing them almost instantaneously. The helicopter, now almost completely unrecognizable, floated for a couple more seconds before I released my hold, allowing it to begin it's free-fall. I watched as the contorted hunk of metal plummeted towards the forest below; with a loud explosion filled with fire and thick black smoke, it was gone.

Using my power to that degree and in this heavily wounded state had completely sucked the remaining energy from my bones and left me on the edge of consciousness. Going into autopilot, I haphazardly picked a direction and without the strength to flap my battered wings, I floated with the air currents.

The winds permitted me to drift slowly North and after a couple of minutes a small meadow came into view. Screaming out in agony, and blood still pulsing from the bullet wound in my leg, I flickered in and out of reality as I neared the safe haven.

I descended through the air and fell gently to my knees on the soft, wet green grasses of the circular field. Breathing deeply, I managed to position myself on my back so that I was able to look up at the gray sky. The storm had ceased and not a sound could be heard except for the bubbling of a nearby brook that had swelled with excess water.

Peace washed over me, and with a sigh I looked upon the parting clouds. Within the cracks, a bright blue sky could be seen. A light breeze wafted through the tall grasses that surrounded me and brought the smell of sweet honeysuckle to my nose, filling me with a heightened sense of tranquility.

Closing my eyes I found myself on the edge of a cliff, in lieu of the normal stormy waters that would crash among the rocks below, rested a serene pool. Spreading the ghost like wings of my subconscious I allowed myself to drift down to the cool, painless waters below.

From my resting place within the waters, like an echo, I could hear the loud thud and feel the slight vibration as something heavy and metallic landed beside me.

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Thank you again and I hope to update regularly :)


	2. New Prospects

Hey Guys!

So I am a terrible, terrible person whom got caught up in finals, summer family vacations and the fact that my Beta was having life troubles. I am so very sorry, but I super promise that there will be a new chapter, of that will be much longer in length, every other week. So without further adieu, I present... Chapter 2!

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Warmth surrounded me like a lovers embrace, enveloping me in a realm of comfort in which I had never ventured. I could stay here forever within these folds of silk. Sighing, I snuggled deeper into the warm blankets that wrapped me in a cocoon, but suddenly, like a batter being hit by a whopping fast ball, a realization sent a resounding shock through my body, causing me to bolt upright... I am not longer within my safe haven; my meadow.

Flinging my eyes wide open , I took in my surroundings. I am no longer nestled in the tall, sweet-smelling grasses but a luxurious bed that could fit many more people than just myself. Its soft silk sheets and plush comforter attempted to seduce me back into a lulling sleep. Trees no longer encircled me but four finely decorated walls that were adorned with paintings that hinted wealth.

Across from me sat a large flat screen TV that was mounted on the mocha wall. The cream ceiling cascaded upwards and in center hung a chandler the twinkled in the sunlight that shown through the wall to my left that doubled as a window...sunlight. How long have I been out? Throwing the covers from my aching body I struggled to get up.

The hard wood floors were cold the touch and the rush of blood from sitting up so quickly caused me to feel disoriented and light-headed. Blinking slowly, I attempted to clear my now clouded, throbbing head by looked down at my cold, bare feet. Where the hell are my boots? I frowned slightly; those had been a gift. Grimacing, I took a step forward , but was insistently reined to a halt as a ripping pain rocketed through my leg, making it feel as if fire was coursing through my every vein from foot to hip.

"Shit" I sputtered, oh ya.. I had been shot; memories from the previous day coursed through my head. Stumbling forward to grasp on to a beautifully carved oak bedside table, I came to notice that on it sat a glass of water and 2 pills. Distrusting and feigning ignorance to the pain, I ignored them and stood as tall as possible without bearing much weight on my leg. I could not afford to be this injured, sighing, I am no better than a horse whom is three-legged lame.

Looking down at my thin body, I noticed that someone had stripped me of my soaking wet, blood splattered clothes and replaced them with a pair of silken sleep pants and spaghetti strapped shirt, no doubt to accommodate my wings.

Pushing my pants down to my knees, I had completely expected to discover a grotesque festering wound but was shocked to find that someone had meticulously cleaned and bandaged my leg. Much skill could be seen with in these wrappings, a careful hand had done this. Odds have it that this degree of craftsmanship could only come from a doctor, _great_, I have come to harbor a deep hatred of doctors.

Yanking my pants back up,though being careful to avoid my now bandaged up thigh, and glancing around and came to notice most everything in the room was made of oak, from the canopy bed frame, whom's drapes were a deep green to match the covers underneath, to the beautiful bookshelf that was overloaded with thick leather-bound novels, and the large wardrobe. It made the room almost homely, I actually liked it, and the green mirrored my favorite color.

On the wall adjacent to me hung a monstrous mirror that was encased in a golden frame, curious I hobbled over to it.

Gazing into the looking-glass, I beheld an image of a raged, weary women. Her thick brunette hair, dark as a cup of fresh brewed Colombian coffee, was hacked off to fall just above her breast. It was in a mass of knots and tangles, that any comb would run in fear. Her face had high cheek bones that could cut glass and a strong feminine jaw line.

Her eyes were a stunning shade of green that if one was to look just close enough they could see the hidden variations of vibrant golds like that of the sun and even some shades of dark blues within the depths of her iris, of that even the ocean would have been envious. Like a portal to the depths of her soul one could see her very meaning, her purpose, but like the hieroglyphics on an ancient tomb, those whom only needed one who could decipher them.

The message was lost.

There was something almost animistic about her face, her expression.

My gaze continued down her slender neck to her bare tan shoulders, which had a couple of thin silvery scars carved into them. They could not be easily spotted unless the onlooker knew of their existence. Continuing down her slender form that stood about 5'5'' one would appreciate that though she was thin she did still have her gentle curves that gave her a feminine figure. The women lifted her tank top just below her bust to reveal a smooth stomach that under the smoldering lights of the sun exposed five thick, ragged scars that cut from her left side to her belly button, unlike the soft silvery scars that adorned various positions on her body, these were a stunning red, that raised slightly from her otherwise unblemished stomach. These scars could have only been made by a rusty blade drawn haphazardly and ruggedly from one side to the other and back again.

Never again...

Widening my focus, I let the final overbearing feature come into view, one that made what looked like an ordinary women into something different, something inhuman, something alien. The women within the glass slowly turned so that her back was in full view. Protruding from her shoulder blades rested a huge pair of wings. She extended one wing so that its every detail could be viewed.

The wings anatomy was amazing, powerful, meant to carry its pilot long distances and at a quick pace. These wings could perform aerial movements that even the most technological advanced trick planes would struggle to accomplish. They sloped downwards then upward stopping at her ears before they plummeted down to wear the longest and biggest feathers, the primary flight feathers, barley brushed the middle of her calves. They had a smattering of different shades of reds and browns with white highlights that stretched horizontally; decorating them. They were, in all honesty, an extensive pair of red hawk wings, for that is what her DNA consisted of; 85% human female 15% red hawk. She was a geneticists wet dream.

This woman is me.

Turning away from the looking-glass, I stumbled to the middle of the massive room. Spreading my wings, stretching and pulling, trying to turn their knotted muscles and tendons to at least a dull roar instead of the terrible aching that pulsed through my back. My 22 foot wingspan filled the room and being careful to not knock anything out-of-place, I lifted the tips of my wings towards the ceiling and back down to rest neatly in their appropriate position. Looking around, I noticed that the only easy exit was one door to the left of the TV. It was a thick mahogany oak that looked as strong as the tree itself.

Whomever had me within their grasp was very wealthy and did not mind flaunting it, Well at least they had decent taste.

Now where am I? Gimping towards the enormous window, I rested a hand gently on the cool class and peered out.

"Oh my god...", I murmured. The scene before me was remarkable. Tall buildings reached towards the sky as the streets far below were filled to the brim with people of all shapes and sizes. New York city, of all the placed I could end up it had to be one of the most inhabited cities in the world.

Allowing myself to use my hawk like vision, I zoomed in to see a young couple holding hands, a mother with child crossing the street, to a group of construction workers repairing Saint Patrick's Basilica. These people just went about their happy lives in what seamed to be a carefree manor. Envy coursed through me, I wish I could be them. To live a simple, maybe even boring life. I will never get the chance to simply walk down a crowded street, what most New Yorkers would perceive as a daunting task, or even fall in love. Have children? I chuckled darkly, that is not even possible for me.

I am surrounded by life; escaping was going to be much harder than I first imagined.

Suddenly I was ripped out of my innermost thoughts as the door behind me was thrown open. Preparing myself for a fight, I crouched down, pain searing threw my leg, most likely reopening the wound.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" yelled the figure raising his hands up into a surrendering position "is that how you are going to treat the man who saved your life? Wow, that is just plain unthankful." I remanded in my crouching positions and quietly studied the man before me.

He that stood before me was, well handsome; though the glint in his eye told me he was of the mischievous type, good or bad? I have yet to find out. He seamed to have a permanent smirk like there was a snide remark just waiting to burst from his finely sculpted mouth that was framed by a stylish goatee. His dark brown hair was thin and almost had a windblown look to it and gray hair could be spotted by his temples. He was an older man though he was graced with the fact that he had aged so well.

He managed to look empowered even though he was simply dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and an Ac Dc tee-shirt. I had seen one of their concerts before, they were playing in an outside venue. I had watched from the trees nearby. The concert was rowdy and filled with adoring fans. Though the music had been overly loud it had been good; anyone could appreciate good music.

"Nice shirt" I replied, motioning towards it. Relaxing my posture slightly, I allowed myself to stand a bit straighter. Saved my life huh?

"Why thank you, I met the band in person of course, being myself you get those kind of privileges" his voice was cocky as hell.

"and who would that be?" I asked raising completely out of my defensive position but still ready to protect myself if provoked. Shock shown in his dark brown irises and his mouth dropped just a touch.

"Have you been living under a rock!?" Yes, yes I have. I let out a small chuckle. He took a few steps forward making it so we were now only a couple of feet apart. His expensive cologne wafted through the air, it was musky like that of the wood that lived deep in the forest, it smelt nice. Reaching out he offered hand,and after giving it a wary glance I gently took it within my own.

With a smile he brushed his lips, like a moths wing, across my knuckles and responded "My name is Tony Stark. THE genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. I am leading the world in green energy and only a couple of years back I saved the Manhattan from big ugly aliens , you know as THE Iron Man."

"Wow Mr. Stark, that is quite the list of accomplishments. Now if I may ask, is picking up women from a field one of you past times or is there something else?" I pulled my hand from his grasp and took a painful step back,... fucking bullets. I truly hope I do not have to run or fight my way out of here. I am in no condition to do so, maybe I will be able to talk my way out?

Taken aback, he rose a single eyebrow "Would you have preferred that I left you bleeding out in the middle of that dumpy field?" he was obviously expecting a big thank you and maybe a tear or two.. I have not shed a tear in years and I am not about to start now, emotion made one weak.

I gazed deeply into his brown eyes. "Was it petty? Or did you see this dying science experiment lying on the floor and think, Oh! how I can use her to my advantage!?" Anger clouded my vision, I promised myself that I would never let this happen to me again and yet here I am. Locked in a room with no escape, it may be well furnished and comfortable beyond compare but the idea of it is no better than the hunk of concrete that was my cell for 18 years. Stretching out a clawed hand I used my mental grasp to rip a painting from the wall and fling it at him, narrowly missing his head. I watched as it slammed into the wall behind him with a shattering crash.

"No" he said completely unfazed by my advance "I saw a beautiful, badly wounded women on the ground and she was in desperate need of a helping hand." His gaze was instance and I believed him, I truly believed him.

"Thank you Mr. Stark", I may not fully trust the man but I could at least thank him for helping me, he was right, I would have surely bled out. The fact that I was so close to death scared me whole-heartedly.

Smiling he simply replied "You are very welcome Ms...?"

"Johnson, Heather Johnson"

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Thank you again! Please review :)


	3. Under Surveillance

Hey Everybody!

A big Thank You to everyone who Favorited, Followed, or Reviewed my story. It means a lot to me to have the love and support from those whom enjoy my Fanfic and of course a HUGE thank you to my Beta!

Please Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Avengers, only My Oc and Plot.

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Scorching hot water streamed down my bruised and battered body as the overly complicated shower slowly and painstakingly unwound my taut muscles. Staring down at my neglected feet, I observed as the filthy water swirled down the drain, completely stripping me of all the physical evidence of the past few months. I picked up a cloth, squirted a generous amount of floral smelling body wash across its course surface, and began to ferociously scrub my skin though being careful to avoid the gaping hole in my leg that throbbed smartly as water washed away the blood.

Thinking back to the earlier hour, I marveled at what seemed to be kindness that brought me to this point.

_"Now that introductions are out of the way, I will leave you to get cleaned up" Mr. Stark glanced at my salacious form. "You need it." Winking, he turned to leave._

_Did he really just wink?_

_"__Wait!" I called halting his retreat " you have yet to tell me why the hell I am here"_

_"__Well then it seems that you have a reason to hang a round don't you?" well that seems fair " and anyways you will not be able to get very far." Glancing at my leg he winced and waltzed out of the room._

_Damn it._

The lather flowed down the curvature of my body as I scrubbed my scalp. Why am I here? Mr. Stark may seem like a egotistical genius,and flies around in a flashy red and gold suit, but he did not seem like a mad scientist. Who was this man really? What kind of person, sane or not, lets a genetic experiment into their home without a second though?

Conditioner then graced my frazzled locks, soothing them.

Finishing up my shower, I stepped into the foggy washroom. Grabbing a rather plush towel, I wrapped my body and hobbled over to the large vanity, sitting down upon the plush bench. I wiped the mirror of it's fog and saw the same woman from before. Her soaking wet hair clung to her face like a drowning man to a life-preserver. Rummaging through the many drawers, which were filled with various beauty products, I found a pair of sharp scissors and a comb. Surprised, I rotated the sharp blades in my hand; they are either very trusting or very ignorant. Setting it down, I picked up the comb.

I have constantly lived being afraid of what will come, what the future was going to dish out. I had never been given much reason to hope, to cling onto the idea that there is still good in the world.

Hell, maybe I a wrong, maybe this will be a turning point...hopefully.

Stroking the brush through my tangled tresses, I slowly untangled the many knots that hid inside the masses. Raising the scissors, I grabbed a sizable chunk of hair, hesitating for only a second, and cut. The hair that was now severed fell to the ground like a solider whom as bullets would rain from a nearby bunker, would hit the war torn earth, clinging to life.

Grabbing chunk after chunk, I sliced my past away.

My next step can only be to figure out what in the world Stark wanted from me and then to get the hell out of here.

The women in the mirror stared back at me intensely. Her hair was cut ruggedly and arbitrarily to fall just above her jaw. Locks of dark, wavy hair stuck out wildly in random directions giving the women a ragged look about her.

Good.

Staring down at the soiled bandages that encased my thigh, one could see blood peaking through the white cloth. Propping my foot upon the marble counter, I slowly and painstakingly unwrapped my thigh to reveal the deep puncture that looked as though the slightest movement would reopen it and send my leg into unstoppable, painful spasms. I have had to wrap many wounds before but being shot is completely different and it take much longer to heal. After wrapping the wound to the best of my ability, I struggled to my feet.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I hobbled over to the large oak wardrobe and threw it open to find a plethora of clothing: from what one would wear to a party to regular sleep apparel and everything else imaginable. Grabbing a simple pair of blue jean shorts, another tank top, and a pair of overly suggestive panties and bra, I stumbled over to the massive bed. Miraculously, the clothing fit perfectly. How the hell did they know my sizes? After lacing up the combat like boots that I had found, I slowly walked over to the large mahogany door, resting a hand on it's cold wood.

What was behind these doors?

Conflicting thoughts filled my mind. Once I pass this threshold, was I to run and fight my way out of here like I had originally planed or stay and see what is to befall me? Maybe as soon as I opened these doors I will find the frigid metal walls of the place were I was created. Would there be guards on the other side of this barrier that would pummel me to the ground and reattached the restraints that I have come to despise? The electric anklets that could bring a grown man to his knees with a single shock? The binding cuffs that would encase the base of my wings making it so that they could not be stretched past there normal resting point making flight impossible? The heavy gloves and thin metal crown that would keep me from using my mental abilities?

Hell, is the door even _unlocked_?

Grasping the large brass handle, I slowly turned it to find that it was unlocked and with a slight push it glided open to reveal a regular hallway. The hardwood floors turned into a plush carpeting that covered the floor of the expansive hall.

Peeking my head out to look around, I found no one in sight.

Stepping out, I chose to go right and, using the wall as a crutch, slowly walked along the corridor passing many other closed doors. Walking along, I passed a wide window. Tapping on it lightly, I found that it, like the one that served as a wall in the earlier room, was made of a very strong glass like material. Through the window one could view New York City from a completely different angle. In the distance proudly stood the Statue of Liberty, a statue that represented freedom to some and mocked others who were not so lucky.

"Excuse me, ma'am" came a soft, shy voice from very close behind. Clenching a fist, I swung around and aimed a hard right hook at the owner. With a soft thunk my pitch was caught in a large calloused hand. Blinking, I looked straight ahead at an expansive chest that was well-defined even under the blue tee-shirt that masked it. Slowly looking up I beheld man, whom could only be described as an all American boy. His strong jaw line and heavenly baby blue eyes looked down at me in a shocked expression; one eyebrow raised. His fine blonde hair was stilled like that of a man stuck in the 50's and his khaki pants, belted with his shirt tucked in, did not help that expression.

I may have lived under a 'rock' for most of my life, but my care takers kept me well-educated and this is not how people in this time frame dress.

"Now I may not be the best at first impressions but I am sure that is not how this usually goes." Still defensive I pulled my comparatively small hand from his grasp and, puffing out my wings slightly, once again was forced into a defensive posture. His gaze only flickered to my wings once before they settled back to rest upon my intense glare.

"I have no intention of harming you, ma'am." Glancing down at my defensive posture, his gaze leveled at my thigh. "I think you may need some medical attention though."

Focusing down, I saw that the fresh bandages that I had just applied were now becoming a stunning red at an alarming rate. That is when a ripping pain shot through my leg sending it into spasms.

Shit.

With a gasp I grasped my thigh feeling the blood moisten my palm; Pain clouding my features.

"Fucking bullets" I swore quietly to myself.

"Here,'' he said reaching forward to grasp my elbow, "Let's get you some help."

"I don't need your help, thank you!" Yanking my arm from his grasp, I struggled to rise and, with a gasp, I crumbled to my knees. Damn it, why am I this weak! Studying my thigh, I watched as the white linens became more and more saturated.

"No offense ma'am but I don't believe that you are in any condition to disagree." To both my surprise and displeasure, I was then hoisted up, like a sack of potatoes, and carried down the long hallway. His pace was strong and steady and covered the ground quickly which left me with little time to react.

With a little humor I noticed that his neck was flushing red; was he embarrassed?

His long strides quickly carried us through the expansive, seemingly endless, hallways and, in what seemed to be a very short period of time, we came to a pair of wide, metallic doors that when approached opened to expose a vast laboratory.

_Struggling against my many restrains, my muscles screamed and my core trembled with a terror that I would never express. Fighting the fear, I ripped agents the chains that bound me to the frigid metal table. Muffled angry screams and foul words tried to force their way through the cloth that encased my mouth._

_From my left sounded heavy footsteps that echoed against the thick steel walls._

_"Oh Heather, why is it that you always seem to end up here? Aren't you exhausted? Your existence would be so much easier if you would just give in! Imagine all that we could accomplish!" coming to stand beside me he gently rested a hand on my bruised arm; skin crawling at his touch. Choosing to ignore my obvious disgust, he continued._

_"With my help you could have everything you every wanted! You were CREATED to aid us in overthrowing those who are lesser. But you have heard this many times and yet... here we are. Now you know that your little... outing can not go unpunished." pausing he seemed contemplation something. "I must say though, I am very impressed. You managed to take down 10 of my best men in only a couple of minutes. You are becoming quite the little killer." I stared up at the man with the scared brow with disgust, hatred pumping through every vein._

_I'm the killer? Hundreds of people are being mutilated and destroyed in their little experiments! I have been here since birth and I still have no idea what or who we are overthrowing. There are so many things that I wish I could scream at him, I want to make him feel the pain that he has put me through, I want to avenge those whom have been hurt by him... And one day I will accomplish this._

_He will die by my hand._

_And with that he brought out a long, rusted knife. closing my eyes I waited for my punishment for I knew exactly what he was going to do._

_I already had 3._

_Bringing the knife to the soft, supple skin of my stomach he let out a sad sigh,"You know, this hurts me almost as much as it hurts you."_

_I doubt that._

_My screams echoed within my very being, ringing out to the farthest expanses of my soul._

_He never heard a sound._

God, no.

Placing both hands on the blonde's shoulders, I launched myself over his head and landed on my feet. Ignoring the crippling pain, I bolted down the hall. Behind me the blonde yelled out and his heavy footsteps could be heard as he gained speed.

Using my wings as a propulsion system I forced myself faster ; Blondie's steeps becoming more distant. Rounding another corner, I found myself at a dead-end. Before me was the entrance to an elaborate elevator; which was in use. The numbers above the wide doors slowly counted down coming closer and closer to the floor which I am currently trapped on.

Panicked, my eyes darted around the room desperately trying to find an exit, a window, something!

Ominously, a quiet ding ringed in the small, silent space. Heart racing, I watched as the doors opened and, in all his glory, stood Mr. Stark. He was dresses in causal business attire, arms crossed and an knowing smile plastered to his face. Behind me one could hear the blonde slowing to a stop. Did I want to fight? Was I really prepared to hurt these people, maybe even be forced to be their guide down deaths dark path?

No, only one more person was going to parish at my hand.

"Ah, Heather! Are we causing trouble? Oh and the haircut, very 'edgy'." Glancing over my left shoulder he smirked and looking back at me raising a single brow and let loose a small chuckle. "She managed to get away from you even with an injured leg. Are we slowing down, old man?"

"She surprised me," he muttered from closer behind me than before.

Voice like a razor blade, I demanded, "Why am I here, Stark?"

"Why do you think you're here?"

"Are you with them?" I snarled. "I just have a very hard time believing that you're helping me out of the kindness of your heart. Nobody just helps me; there is always another reason."

"How about this, you come with me back to the lab and we'll get you fixed up. No tricks, only help. Then, and only then, I'll answer your questions." When I gave him a cold glare in response, he added, "Pinky promise, kid," and held out his little finger, expression _almost_ completely genuine.

Trapped and refusing to fight, I simply nodded.

What choice did I have?

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	4. Alliances

Alright guys here we go!

P.s. If you are ever wondering when the next chapter will be posted, I put my target date and a couple of notes in my Profile under the appropriately named section **_Chapter Update Times and Comments. _**

Thank you!

Disclaimer: I own none of the Avengers, just my Oc and Plot.

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Once again here I sit, upon a cold metal examination table surrounded by machinery that was far above anything that I could comprehend. To my left stood what I assumed to be the Iron Man suit whose metal glimmered in the harsh artificial lighting, upon the wall beside the suit were different components including various weapons and missiles.

The lab was, well, massive and just like the bedroom in which I had awoken, one wall was completely glass and New York bustled busily down below. The sun set to the west, filling the sky with vibrant reds, oranges, pinks, and purples, whimsically casting shadows upon the buildings. Light fluffy clouds lazily floated through the sky without a single care. I sighed wishing I was them; how wonderful life could be.

I had only been sitting there for a couple of minutes when my attention was pulled from the magnificent view to focus on the approaching men. On the left strode Stark, openly conversing with who I could only presume to be the doctor and on his right walked Blondie, who listened intently to whatever they were talking about.

Ah, a doctor, _how wonderful_. The man walked forward more hesitantly than the other two; each step was measured and calculated. He was of a medium build and was sightly taller than Stark but nowhere near the height that Blondie possessed. He wore simplistic clothing, a dark purple button up shirt slightly covered by the oh so important lab coat.

Well, at least the coat did not have any noticeable blood stains. I let loose a small, unladylike snort.

Allowing my gaze to raise up to the man's face, I pondered his identity. Dark brown wavy locks speckled with light gray hairs that suggested age rested upon his crown. Sun kissed skin stretched across the expanses of his face only marred by the occasional worry line that seems to be embedded within the pores: he must be a stressed man. His full lips pulled down in a slight grimace at a comment that Stark had made. It must have been a crude joke because Stark's blusterous laughter soon filled the expansive room.

Stopping a couple of feet away from me in a small semicircle, the men fell quiet. Sitting up straighter under their critical gaze, I waited for one of them to talk and, not to my surprise, my ever cocky host stepped forward breaking away from the herd. Pulling my gaze from the doctor, I beheld Stark as he came forward resting a hand on my shoulder.

"Heather! This is Doctor Bruce Banner, the man who aided in bringing you back from the dead." Stretching out his free hand, he beckoned the good doctor forward.

Quickly, he offered a hand and said in a soft tenor voice, " It is nice to see you once again Ms..."

"Johnson," I replied coldly, shaking his hand lightly, making brief contact. Well, he can't be too much of a monster since he did not let me completely bleed out.

Tony watched quietly before piping up. "Now Brucey, my feisty little friend here has managed to completely ruin your handy work and is now bleeding all over my shiny table! Do you mind patching her up?"

Banner and I simultaneously looked down at my thigh which, though the bleeding had stopped, was still a dark red that had left a nasty print on the table.

"Sorry," I muttered softly, more embarrassed than anything. Why the hell should I be embarrassed? Let's just stick it to the man and bleed all over the damn place!... or maybe not.

What the hell am I doing here?

"No worries, kid! Bruce here will fix you up to be even better than before," bolstered Stark throwing an arm around Banner's shoulder. Banner awkwardly shuffled out from under his overly zealous friend's arm and, walking over to one of the many tables, he picked up a couple of things that looked medically related. Beside me Stark pulled a clear panel of glass from the nearby wall and after touching it a couple of times, images began to appear; it was what seamed to be a very expansive and inconsequentially over-complicated computer.

Blondie stood there for a second before walking over to a nearby table that held various instruments and after picking up a long silver rod, he fiddled with it curiously. Stark quickly walked over, took the object from the large Blonde's hands and pushed him towards the door. "Come back later old man!"

Why did Stark keep calling Mr. Muscles 'old man', He was obviously much older than him, whom could only be in his early twenties.

Appearing back to my side, Banner set down his various tools and looking me directly in the eye he asked, "May I?" as he motioned to my thigh. Nodding my head, I carefully watched as he set off to work. He worked diligently and, unlike most of the 'doctors' I have come to know, gently.

His soft brown hair fell forward as he worked, masculine scent filling my senses. He smelled of a soft musk but not as overpowering as Stark's and completely unlike Blondie's old timely leather smell that was like that of an old book. He smelled...natural, real. Almost like a fresh summers night with the stars twinkling far above as the campfire crackled nearby.

I studied his profile, watching as his thick brows furrowed in concentration and, almost hesitantly, I allowed my gaze to travel down the soft curvature of his nose to his full lips, which were parted slightly. His strong jaw line was clean-shaven and––"damn it!" Suddenly I was ripped back to reality as he swabbed at the wound with a disinfectant. Jumping slightly from the shock that resulted from the sting, Banner looked up at me through his thick lashes. His deep brown eyes, the color of the worn bark of the trees that I had called home, stared deeply through his thin wire framed glasses into my own green ones. He only held my gaze for a second before he quickly looked away. Though brief, I saw that within his irises a multitude of emotions where hiding, from worry, to content but most of all, within the deepest crevices of his soul, I saw anger. An anger that sent a shiver up my spine.

"Sorry," he muttered softly. "I'm almost done." Returning to his work he began the process of reapplying the bandages. I lifted my leg slightly to make his work easier.

I had come into this lab prepared to completely hate this man, to feel my skin crawl like that when the man with the scared brow would touch me, to feel my stomach turn and heart pound with disgust and hate. I was prepared to give him hell but here I am being completely complaint. Maybe it was the fact that this man aided in saving my life, or that some part of me, the animal side, saw that this man could be dangerous and that upsetting him could possibly cause me to become injured.

Being so cooperative made me feel, once again, like a puppet under the control of her puppeteer. I had cut those binding chains so many years ago and I would not let it happen again.

Never again.

As soon as he looked up from my leg and took a step back, I jumped down from the table, ignoring the pain, and put some distance between us. Bruce... no, no, no, I am not to use first names. The last person I was on a first name basis with died a few days afterward. I can't allow myself get close with anyone ever again.

Banner looked surprised by my quick retreat and muttered "All better."

Stark, who had been working on that glass computer, looked up and noticing my suddenly defensive posture came around the screen and pulled a plush desk chair from a nearby table.

"No thank you, I'll stand," I said pointedly, looking at the chair.

"That's fine. It is not for you anyways," and with that he plopped down, making a show of just how comfortable it was. Crossing his legs in a very manly fashion, he leaned back and put his hands together. "Selfish," he quipped jokingly. "Such a needy house guest!"

Banner just stood there, looking around trying to figure out where he should be, or if he should even be here, before he eventually decided to just lean against the table. Clearly, he was uncomfortable.

Like an actor being queued in for his big scene, in walked Mr. Blonde. Striding over he stood next to Banner and assumed the position of an solider at attention with arms crossed over his broad chest.

I prepared myself; Let the show begin.

Stark, playing the ring master, spoke up. '' So, Heather. What were you doing in New York's Finger Lakes National Forest? Which by the way is a completely ridiculous name! Where in the world did they come up with 'finger lakes!?' But anyways what were you doing out there? Being chased my lots of angry people, with guns, and a heavily armed helicopter?" He did not leave out much, did he?

"I do believe that I have the same question for you, Mr. Stark. Not many people go for a stroll in their high-tech suit of armor...while a massive storm is underway," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest, raising a brow.

Shaking a single finger and tisking softly, he replied " Now, now, my dear, this is my court and I make the rules."

I took a brief moment to look to the jury, Blondie and Banner. The All American Boy stood at attention, waiting for my answer, while The Good Doctor just looked expectantly at me with those big brown eyes. Everybody quietly waited for me to give them the truth, the god awful truth. I could so easily feed them lie after lie, but maybe it would be an asset to have 'Iron Man' on my side. I have heard bits and pieces about him and his group of heroes but hell, I try to stay out of the lime light while he just thrived in it. I wonder if his two companions where part of said team?

"Camping," I replied simply, which was the truth at least. I was 'camping' if you define it as sleeping in the woods underneath the stars.

"Ah-ha... and all of those angry people?" Stark prodded. Banner leaned a little closer, face full of intrigue.

"Now listen up, I know nothing about you three and you all know nothing about me, and I would prefer to keep it that way. Just know that those people are terrible people who work for an even worse group.'' Pointing towards Stark I demanded, "So what were you doing outside out of your big tower? In the middle of a storm?"

"Fair enough. Me and my lovely companions here received a call that there was a massive helicopter and gunfire near one of our local forests. I then decided to take it upon myself to fly out there and crash that party. And then I found you _flying_, face to face with said helicopter that was playing a little rough with the baby bird. Before I had time to swoop in and save the day you managed to crush it, without even getting near it. It just crumpled into a big ball of metal, which is incredibly bad-ass" Stark look at Blondie, whose face had hardened and then to Banner who's intrigue slowly turned to apprehension . "Then you just flew off... and landed in a nearby meadow. Then, as you are fully aware, I brought you here to get patched up."

So, they were part of some big agency. _Great... _but really, what did I expect? A helping hand without a middle man, an alternative motive? Life is just not that easy now-a-days.

Looks like I am going to have to fight my way out of here after all. Adrenaline began to pump through my veins, forcing blood into my muscles preparing them for a animal's natural instinct, Fight or Flight. Flexing my fingers by my side I remained in a neutral position, trying to keep a level head.

Keeping my voice as calm as possible, I asked "Who sent you?" The steel in my voice slicing through the silence.

"Sir?" a British voice suddenly rung out from the ceiling. Startled I looked up, trying to find a figure with which to connect the disembodied voice; I found nothing.

"Yes, J.A.R.V.I.S," answered Stark. Who the hell is J.A.R.V.I.S?

"There has been a breach in security. What would you like my next course of action to be?"

"Who the hell is it?" shouted Stark's slightly aggravated voice as he rose from his comfy chair. "Friend? Foe? Fiance?"

Suddenly the doors behind me opened up and many foot steps could be heard. I spun around to see several, of what I assumed to be agents, flood through the door, guns drawn and were all aimed at one person: me.

"Stark!" boomed a deep voice. With his dark, leather trench coat flapping behind him, in walked a very large black man... with an eye-patch.

"Dammit, Fury! Don't you know how to knock? At least call before you intrude on my play dates," Stark whined.

"Well Stark, maybe if you would have reported back after your little mission then I would not have had to come and check in."

With at least 6 guns trained on me I tried vigorously to figure out a way out of this mess. Maybe I can take the Iron Man suit and use it to break the window to my left? In turn flying out but then I will have made a scene over top New York, which would definitely get me spotted. Is there even a good way out of this building? There is no good way to get past the agents and J.A.R.V.I.S, if it is what I think it is, probably has eyes all over this building and knowing Stark there are probably defensive traps too.

So to put things simply, I am stuck.

Suddenly Blondie stepped forward to stand by my side, " Now Director Fury, I don't think there is any need for all this hostility," he said motioning towards the agents. Was he really standing up to me, after I almost punched him in the face?

"We can't just let her wander around without knowing where she stands. Especially after that whole mess with Loki," he said stiffly to the blonde. Then, training his one good eye on me "Ms. Johnson if you would kindly come with me".

"I would rather not, thank you," I replied coolly.

Motioning towards two of the armed agents he ordered, "Restrain her."

The two agents swiftly stood and walked over to me, guns still cocked and ready.

"And where are you going to take her? Are you going to lock her up in a cage? Like a wild animal?!" Shocked by the hostility in the voice, I turned to find no other than Dr. Banner, who was now at my side. Why the hell are these people standing up for me?

The agents halted a couple of feet before me and glanced wearily to each other than back to Banner. They looked... scared.

"Calm down, Banner! I really don't have time for the insurance paperwork today," the man with the eye patch grumbled. With that he motioned for the agents to put their weapons away, including the approaching agents with the restraints. "You know just as well as everyone else that any threat to the public's safety must be approached as such."

So Banner was a dangerous man? He certainly to not look to be that much of a threat.

While distracted by Banners sudden outburst, the agents, coming forward, quietly and efficiently snapped the restrains in place.

I HATE restrains.

Without the complete use of my hands to channel the energy, my telekinetic abilities are unrestrained and volatile, like that of a hose without its nozzle, water able to gush out in every direction.

Growling, I ruffly ripped a couple of the agents off their feet but unable to hold them they begin to fall to the ground but the field around me continued to be disrupted, random objects were thrown haphazardly towards walls and agents ,who dodged my quick assaults.

Suddenly everything dropped with a thundering crash, mixed with small groans as those whom had been unlucky enough to be taken for a ride, picked themselves up off the cold, hard floors. The world around me began to contort and with a small gasp; I fell to the floor. The room and the voices within it became more and more distanced as I struggled to remain conscious. Able to focus on one last thing, my gaze fell upon Fury who held a long-barreled gun that still had a small sliver of smoke trailing from its barrel.

Had the bastard just tranquilized me?

As my heart rate slowed and my eye lids became overwhelmingly heavy I received my answer. Yes, yes he had and with what felt to be an elephant dart.

With that, I slipped back into the serene, cool waters of my unconscious. In the distance one could hear a worried, tenor voice shout my name before the room erupted into chaos and I fell into a heavy sleep.

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Thank you!

Also! If there are any artists out there that are bored and would like something to draw, then why not try drawing Heather or a scene from my Fanfic? Just a thought!

Please Review :)


	5. Welcome to the Team

Hello Everyone!

I apologize immensely for the super-duper long wait and I hope that the next couple of chapters will be coming out very quickly. If you are on your summer break (like I am ;) ) I hope that you are thoroughly enjoying it and without further ado I present... Chapter 5!

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Soaring through the air with the wind beneath my wing, the sun shining through the clouds as I spun and circled lazily within the midday sky. The sweet air of spring filled my lungs and I breathed out a sign of complete contentment. Smiling, I peered down at the blanket of clouds which separated my euphoric flight from the rest of the dark, dank world. Swooping down, I let my fingers flit through the white mist, mystified by the patterns that would flow behind my intrusive hand. Then, angling my wings upward, I shot towards the stars. Squealing out in excitement, I pulled my wings in flush to my sides and like a swan, dove down, wind bringing tears to my eyes as I laughed out joyously. Diving faster and faster towards the blanket of clouds, I brought my arms out, like that of an airplane as I parted the mist.

I broke through the cloud barrier.

Shrieking out in terror, I clumsily fought to halt my quick descent for below me lane a broken and burning land; a city, blackened and in ruins. The masses were running, terror-stricken as fire rained down from the buildings above. Innocent people whom had normal, happy lives where now fleeing, fighting for one more breath of air. Gunfire could be heard from my perch up in the sky as heavily armed trucks shot down those who fled. My heart began to pound and tears touched my eyes, though never fell.

Rocketing down towards the streets, I unfurled my wings, feathers falling from the harsh descent, and landed amongst the blackened rubble. Confused, I watched as tanks lain the earth to ruin, man against man.

"What the fuck is going on?" I said, voice barely above a whisper.

Though it started out soft the ground begin to rumble, louder and louder, small chunks of concrete teetering with the vibration. Turning, I came to view a behemoth green man, muscles rippled with every stride as he knocked cars that stymied his path out of the way like they where nothing. Launching itself over a pileup of cars, it roared shaking the earth as its bulk came back in contact with the already crumbling road. Suddenly, bullets began to pummel the ground around me, throwing up chunks of thick concrete, as to my left a huge armored tank came into view. With an earth shattering roar the beast lurched towards me.

With horrors on both sides, I excepted my fate.

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"Shh sh sh... It's OK, your OK" a soft feminine voice close by murmured comfortably. A soft warm hand rubbed small soothing circles onto my own. Throwing my eyes open, I was blinded by a bright fluorescent light that shone from above. Struggling to sit up, I found that my wrists were bound to the bed in which I lay and to my displeasure blood soon rushed from my head leaving me dizzy and disoriented.

"Easy now" said the voice, pushing me back down to rest. The hand had stopped its comforting touch, and its residual warmth slowly leaked from my skin. As my eyes adjusted, I found myself within a cylinder glass cell, strapped to a small cot that was positioned in the center.

"Where am I?" I asked, finding that my voice was groggy and strained from disuse. The women at my side, stood and walking away for a second, returned bringing back a glass of water and set it down upon the small metal table beside her.

"Now, I am going to undo the restrains but you have to promise not to try anything. You are under heavy security and lethal provisions with be used if necessary." I looked longingly at the glass that all but calling my name. Looking the strange women right in the eye and nodded slowly.

They better not have put something in the water or so help me...

The women leaned over me and undid both of the straps which gave me a chance to truly ponder her identity. She looked to be in her late twenties and had short pixie cut hair that matched her petite form. She was also clothed in the same uniform that the agents who had unaccompanied my lest favorite person at the moment, Fury, had worn; a form-fitting, dark blue military grade uniform with an emblem positioned over the heart.

As soon as the restrains fell from my wrists, the women insistently backed up and motioned towards the small table that held a tray of food and the life-sustaining water. Hesitantly, I grasped the cool glass and brought it to my parched lips. I took a slow sip and then with unanticipated vigor; I gulped down the rest. I sighed, letting the liquid sooth my achingly dry throat.

"Thirsty?" asked the mystery agent who stood leaning up against the glass wall. Glancing at her I noticed that a gun was strapped to her thigh and with a fulling equipped military grade belt at her hip she was fully armed and dangerous.

Great...

"ya, a little," I chucked darkly, looking down at the hard metal floor. Standing, I stretched out my terrible cramped muscles, than placing my hands on my lower back, contorted backwards till a satisfying pop rung out within the small chamber. A twinge of pain could be felt in my arm as I stretched, investigating, I came to find a little needle hole that was yellowing with a light bruise; no doubt where the bastard had shot me.

Ugh, I groaned, I hate needles.

"Ms. Johnson," the women called out grasping my attention ,"My name is Agent Hill, and you are currently in a holding cell within S.H.E.I.L.D.'s main underground base. You have been brought here for questioning." her tone business like.

"Alright Agent Hill, before I go to this 'questioning' I have a few questions myself," sitting back down upon the stiff mattress I brought the tray to my lap and picked up the fork.

"Proceed"

"OK lets see, First, what is S.H.E.I.L.D?"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division," well that's a mouthful. Why not 'people who shoot you with a damn elephant dart group'; I chuckled humorless.

"OK, where are Stark, Banner, and the blonde one?" I ate the food slowly though I was starving, I did not want to gorge myself and overwhelm my stomach, plus it is not fun to run while full. I glanced down at the bandages that still encased my thigh, not that running is much of an option. My previous attempts had caused the torn muscles to throb and a dark purple bruise could be seen along the edges of the wrapping.

"Do you mean Captain Rodgers?" So that is his name, I nodded, " Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner and The Captain are with Director Fury," Nodding slowly, I finished up the bland food that left me unsatisfied and with a gnawing empty stomach that called for more.

Agent Hill watched me closely, studying every movement I made; her dark gray eyes piercing. Suddenly she blurted out "What where you dreaming of? You were so scared."I looked up shocked by her intrusive question.

"I... I really don't know." I said, gently picking up the tray from my lap and propping it on the small metal table. What was that dream about? It had started out so peaceful, so happy but then had abruptly changed to that of a horrible nightmare. So much blood and death and that beast... With a small swish, I was pulled from my thoughts to the sound of the large door sliding open to reveal a long metal walkway.

Agent Hill offered a slender hand, though hesitant, accepted it. Pulling me to my feet, she allowed me to use her as a crutch as we hobbled down the expansive metal hall. Now this cold dreadful place has the ambiance that I expected when I opened the mahogany door in Stark's tower. Though cleaner, I does resemble the place of my creation.

We walked in silence, keeping a slow steady pace; each step bringing me closer and closer towards my future and all that it holds. Anticipation coiled in my stomach screaming out for some kind of release, like that of a rattlesnake ready to strike. Pulling me to a halt, Agent Hill faced a door and after entering a pin number and placing her thumb on the clear blue pad, it opened to uncover a room with a large round table stationed in the middle. In the center an emblem that clearly labeled Avengers could be seen. Computer monitors like that in Stark tower littered the walls and a podium raised on a platform rested above everything else.

A few people accompanied the room including Dr. Banner, Blondie and Stark whom conversed openly with Director Fury. Animatedly, they argued, voices raising. Stark got right in Fury's face visibly seething though the dark-skinned man only looked mildly annoyed. Banner stepped away from the situation taking his glasses from his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, expression full of concentration. Though he masked it well, I could_ smell_ the anger wafting off him in thick sheets.

Before we entered the chamber Agent Hill stepped before of me, taking hold of my shoulders. Looking me dead in the eye she said intensely. "it may not seem like it now but we are here to help you. Whatever you are running from, these people with stick by your side and fight your battles with you. You just need to give them the OK" Before I could utter a single sound she charged threw the door and called, "Sir, Ms. Johnson is ready."

"What?" I muttered to myself.

The angry group all snapped their heads to face me. Annoyed by their current conversation, Stark broke away from the group and bringing his attention towards me bolstered "ah! Mi amor, I am so glad you were able to grace us with you presence".

"Sorry I am late, but an elephant dart can really slow a person down." I laughed darkly directing a pointed look towards the Pirate. Ignoring me, he proceeded to the podium and motioned for everyone to take a seat. Stark took the seat to my left and Banner to my right, with Blondie across from me I was once again trapped.

Did they always have to be so close? With vigorous concentration I fought the onslaught of claustrophobia that unsuspectingly began to ensnare my heart; the thick vines wrapping me tighter and tighter. Breathe coming in tight bursts I stood up, chair flinging back and quickly walked to another seat, I could feel the whole room watching me while I settled in my new place.

"Is everything quite alright Ms. Johnson?" asked Fury's demanding voice.

"Just a little claustrophobic that's all, when you spend most of your time outside in the open you tend to prefer it that way. It will pass though." That is true enough, the first time that they dragged me back to mine own 9th circle, I had been so cramped, so paranoid by the sudden close quarters. Though after some time I forced my self to adapt. This is just another situation to adapt to; Without fear one will not survive.

_'Fear is a part of life. It's a warning mechanism. That's all. It tells you when there's danger around. Its job is to help you survive. Not cripple you into being unable to do it.' ―Jim Butcher,Dead Beat_

"OK then let's get this show on the road, Now Ms. Johnson what is your full name?" He asked, training his one good eye on my own, His gaze was fierce to say the least.

"Which name do you want? The one I gave myself or the one given to me?" raising a brow and leaning forward onto my elbows.

"Both" he said starkly.

"The name I gave myself is Heather Johnson, given name Subject 36. 'Property of GWI" I replied tipping my imaginary hat , and letting the sarcasm roll off my tongue like that of the green serpent.

"GWI? I have never heard of it."

"Of course you haven't, these people are masters at covering their tracts. They are woven so deeply into international affairs that you may be supporting them and you don't even realize it. GWI is only one of the names that they go by but it stands for Genetic Weapons Industries. I, my friends, am an Genetic Weapon, created to aid in the destruction of millions, to bring down those whom are lessor! But hell, I was created there and I still have no idea who or what we are overthrowing."

"You said they called you 36, why?" I was surprised, not by the question but by whom the question was asked. Dr. Banner's voice was quiet like a whisper in the night.

"Do you really think that I am the first one they tried with?" My voice was soft, sincere. "No. They took the saying 'if at first you don't seceded try, try again' to heart. At first they tried mutating adults with animatistic genes but that just ended up either killing them or leaving them catatonic. Then they moved on to infants then to unborn children. Each subject received a number but each subject failed. Not only did they attempt to combine human and animal genes but also to embed the chromosome that gave some humans special abilities; like telekinesis. It seems like a large order to fill don't you think? They were going to go for it, though." I paused contemplated my next remark. " Then they made... me. I was a great success, they were so proud but now they were confronted with an impasse. What the fuck were they going to do with a child with wings and telekinetic abilities? If I knew what their big plan was then I could answer that all accompanying question myself, maybe they were going to sell me to different government agencies, like a rent-able. Maybe it is something bigger."

The room was silent for a minute or two as what I had just said was digested. I took a moment to look around the group; Mr. Stark's expression was like that I have never seen before on that mans usually openly cocky face, It was stoic and extremely concentrated. The Good Doctor had taken back to pinching the bridge of his nose and his hand which held the thin wiry glasses, was shaking. Blondie's expression was very withdrawn like he was someplace else, maybe even a completely different time.

"How did you get away?" asked Stark, his usually animated voice, solemn.

"That may just be a story for another time Mr. Stark" I replied, they did not need to know everything... yet.

"Please, don't call me Mr. Stark, that was my father. Feel free to call me Tony"

"Thank you... but I feel that I may be in everybody's best interest to stay professional."

"Why?" asked The Captain, coming back from his innermost thoughts.

"It is more superstitions than anything else. The last person I was on a fist name basis with died several days later. I don't want to be the cause of anymore deaths."

The room was quiet before Director Fury spoke up. "I do have many more questions to ask you Ms. Johnson but the last one for now is this. Do you have any imitate plans to bring harm the general public?"

"No Sir." Did I pass?

"If I was to release you right now where would you go?" That is a good question, I suppose that I would venture back to the expansive blue skies to soar and be free... and be hungry, consistently on the defensive and forced to fear if I would get shot again or not. "Back on the defensive I suppose. I would fly somewhere remote and very out of they way and just...live. Hell of a life ,ya?"

''Then I have a proposition for you". What does this man have to offer?

"And that would be?"

"Join us here at S.H.E.I.L.D. You would be protected, have somewhere to stay, and a consistent salary. This could be your second chance." Fury's voice had lost that sharp edge that it had possessed throughout the day, he was really giving me the option to refuse, something I had never possessed before; a choice.

"and under what condition?" There is always a condition.

"You would be apart of the Avengers Initiative" The what?

Out of nowhere Stark appeared behind me and laid a hand on the bridge of my wing. "Welcome to the Family, Kid"

Well maybe I did not have the choice, but how long would this last anyways?

One must always know the first few rules of one whom wants to survive,

Stay on the move, stay alert, and even your closest friend can become your worst enemy.

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